The subway stations are all but abandoned save for a few brave souls that kept going to work during the first year after the pandemic started. Fortunately, I was able to work from home for that first lonely year. I live in a three-story walkup 120 square foot studio apartment on Locust Street in Philadelphia. It’s located right next to Rittenhouse Square. I love this part of the city, close to transportation, restaurants, and museums.

If you ever want to know what it’s like living in a prison cell you are welcome to stop by and see my “apartment.” I just graduated from Temple University last year and I was hired to work as a graphic designer for a packaging company. Which is great. On the other hand, the pay isn’t great, and also not to mention the lack of benefits the first year.

I have always considered myself something of a loner. Spending your workday alone is almost a given in my business. Unless you are working in a corporation that has teams working on design projects. Unfortunately, I was hired by a start-up company that only has three employees and the owners. So, you have to be a jack of all trades here. And you can expect to work a lot of overtime.

Before I graduated from Temple with my MA I was living at home with my parents and younger brother and commuting from New Jersey daily. That got really old after a while because most days my classes were scheduled first thing in the morning and then a class after dinner. So, I had to commute back and forth a couple of times a day. Which was expensive because I had to pay bridge tolls to cross the bridge twice a day.

That’s why I decided to get an apartment in Philly as soon as I got a job. Luckily, I got hired right after graduation. It took me almost a month to find an affordable apartment. When I first went to see it, I didn’t realize just how small it was because it was empty. And I was so excited about finding an available and affordable place to live I didn’t really think about how really tiny it was. The fact that it had a mini-fridge, no stove, just a toaster oven. But I didn’t really think about those things until the day I moved in. When I realize there was no way in hell that my double bed is going to fit.

My dad takes one look at the place and says,” good lord you might have mentioned how small this place is. Your furniture isn’t going to fit in here, nowhere, no how, no way. Let’s take this all back home and go take a look at IKEA has to offer in way of furniture that is convertible from a bed to a couch and a small desk and chair that you can eat on and also use as a work desk. Maybe I can build you a drafting table that flips up and out of the way on the wall. And did you realize there’s only one closet for storage? I don’t know where you’re going to put your bike. Maybe I can hang hooks from the ceiling for the bike? How about if right now you really take a good look around and see what has to stay and what has to go back home to the garage?”

I look at my dad and I really want to disagree with him. But as I take a really close look around, I realize he’s absolutely right. So, I keep my mouth shut. Then I start going through the boxes we already brought in and take only the essential items. Everything else goes back in the boxes to return to my old house. I start making a list in my head about what I definitely need to keep. We end up taking about two-thirds of my stuff back home. And then we make a trip to IKEA. I buy a small convertible couch/bed. and some storage shelves. I guess I not going to be eating as I used to since I’ll have to do all my cooking in a toaster oven.

Not to mention that I’m going to be washing my dishes and my face and hands in the kitchen sink since there isn’t a sink in the bathroom. Only a shower that looks like a tall skinny coffin and a toilet. I‘m going to have to get food for one or two days at a time. Since I only had a mini-fridge. I bought the smallest microwave I could find. I cross my fingers and hope it will fit on the three-foot countertop.

I’m not as stoked as I was early this morning but still, I’m finally on my way to becoming a working artist in my own place. Even if it’s an apartment made for the seven dwarfs or something. My dad and I bring all the stuff up the three flights of stairs. We’re both exhausted by the end of the day. Billy how about coming home for dinner and then I’ll give you a lift back here tomorrow morning. And you can get a good meal and sleep in a comfortable bed?”

I want to say no, but I am exhausted and hungry. “OK, sure that would be great. I’m starving. Do you know what Mom’s making for dinner?”

“Oh, she told me she was making tortellini and meatballs tonight. Isn’t that one of your favorites?”

“Yeah, yeah it is.” And so, I stay over for the second last night at my childhood home before I move into my own place. I have to admit I’m really going to miss my mother’s cooking. I sleep like a log.

I hear my mom calling me from downstairs, “Billy breakfast is ready. I made your favorite eggs over easy and crispy bacon.” I realize I’m going to miss more than my mother’s cooking. I’m going to miss my mother. You probably won’t believe this but for a moment I have to fight back the tears. I’ll deny it if you ever tell anyone I said that. But my parents are the best, especially my mom. The smell of the bacon frying calls me downstairs and I just throw on yesterday’s shirt and pants, dirty socks, and old sneakers. I consider washing my face but decide it’s not worth the trouble since I’ll be sweaty and dirty in a couple of hours.

I swallow the last bite of a bacon and egg sandwich and sigh. “That was great Mom. It really hit the spot.” My mom comes over and gives me a hug. And once again I feel the urge to start crying. Really, what the hell is happening to me? I haven’t cried since I was in middle school and wasn’t picked to be on the soccer team. My day looks at me and my mom and I saw him swallow hard. “Ok, Ok that’s enough of that. We have a lot of work to do today. Marion, he isn’t going to be that far away, just over the Ben Franklin Bridge. We can see him anytime we want to.”

I look at my dad and say, “What, wait you have to call me before you show up. What if I have friends over or a girlfriend?”

“Ok, I was just making a point so your mother wouldn’t be so upset.”

We all look at each other and then I and my dad look down at the floor. My dad says, “Let’s be on our way we have a lot of heavy lifting to do and I’m not as young as I used to be.”

My mom says, “be careful don’t overdo either of you.”

“We’ll be fine. Marion, I probably won’t be back until dinner time so don’t make any big meals just in case I’m late. See you later.” He grabs his car keys from the hook and heads out the door.

I stand up and my mom hugs me again, “Don’t be a stranger. And let me know when we can come to visit and see your new place.”

“Ok, Mom but I don’t know if three people can fit into my apartment. Maybe one of you will have to wait in the hallway until the other one comes out.”

“What, what do you mean by that?”

“I mean it is a very tiny apartment.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will be fine. We all have to start somewhere. I know someday you’ll be a big success.”

“Thanks, Mom you were always my best cheerleader. Thanks for having faith in me.” This time I give her a hug. I realize I will miss hugging her and smelling of Chanel number five.”

I turn quickly away and take a deep breath and take my first step forward into my future. Then I start double-stepping it because I hear my father honking his horn impatiently. When I get up to the car, I open the door and say, “calm down, calm down will ya?”

“Get in, get in we don’t have all day. I have other things to do you know?”

“Sorry, Dad didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

“Yeah, I know women always got to make everything a big emotional thing.”

I take a good look at my father and his eyes are all red. “Ok dad let’s get going.”

An hour later we were looking for a parking spot in front of my building we kept going round and round the block. On our fourth go-round a car finally pulled out and my dad expertly backs right into it. Luckily, his van had doors on the side and we can get my stuff out.

Two hours later we took our last load of my stuff up the three flights of stairs. I feel like I’m going to pass out. I can only imagine what my old man feels like. When we get inside, I go in the fridge, and lo and behold the former tenant left two bottles of Pepsi in the fridge. “Hey Dad, guess what? Two bottles of Pepsi, cold Pepsi.”

“What, you’re kidding. So, hand it over, hand it over. I’m about to die over here.”

Three hours later we had just about finished everything. I don’t think I could possibly fit one more thing in my new apartment. “Dad, I can’t believe it, but we’re done. How about we throw some water on our faces and get some lunch. I noticed there was a little luncheonette down the street. What do you say? My treat.”

“I say, hell yeah lead the way.”

We threw some water on our faces from the little sink, and wash our hands without soap because I forgot to bring any, and we head out to the EL Merkury.
El Merkury has everything you didn’t know you were craving until the moment you start eating it. My dad and I both ordered the black bean and cheese-stuffed pupusas and ice cream sundaes. I honestly thought I was going to throw up I ate so much. My dad says, “well, I don’t think I’ll be able to eat dinner tonight.”

“Me either, but that’s probably because I didn’t do any food shopping yet.”

“You’ll survive. When your mother and I first got married we hardly had any money and we ate beans and hotdogs for weeks at a time. And popsicles for dessert. I couldn’t eat hotdogs or popsicles for years after that. I know you are going to do great in the city. In fact, I envy you. Your whole life is ahead of you. I know you will be successful but it will take time and hard work. That’s about all the advice I have for you. I’m going to be on my way now. My last words are don’t be a stranger. Remember if you ever need us we will be there for you. And then he came over and gave my shoulders a squeeze and turned and walked out the door. And that is when what tear I had been holding back all day slid down my cheek along with a whole lot of other tears. I wiped them away with the back of my hand. I pushed my seat back put a tip on the table and walked over to the counter and paid my bill. “Thanks that was great,”  I said to the cashier. She gave me a big smile, and said,” please come again.” And I walked out the door and into my new life.

As I was going out the door, I heard the jukebox playing some old song called, GROWING UP IS HARD TO DO BY the Ginger Snaps. “What else can I say? It ain’t easy.”

 

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